The Witness
The witness hasn’t slept
In a million years and more
Although he has been over covered
Subdued and warred against
By unruly forces
He will never sleep
Again or before
Or at anytime soon
Between the infants
Gentle coo and the frail
Hand of the old man
The witness can bring his
World of non dispute
To fruition, to love
Harmonise and realise
That what you see today
Before you is a pale reflection
Of how it really is.
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Too much intellectual pride and not enough intellectual beauty
To Thine own Self be True
The Frost performs its secret ministry,Unhelped by any wind. Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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